Passions of Chelsea Kane Part 22

She slipped her hands nto the pockets of her coat and faced Hunter ross the floor. "I thought we were getting to be lends." He tucked his hands under his, arms and said nothing. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

He shrugged dismissively. "Did someone in town say something about me Jhat upset you?" There might have been gossip about her baby, or where she'd come from, or what she planned to do with the Notch when the year was done. He shook his head. When he remained silent she pulled out the drawing she'd made of the silver key and brought it to him. "Have you heard about this?" He gave the drawing a pa.s.sing glance. "Nolan showed it to me. Where did you get it?" She told him the story, then said, "I want you to help me find out where it came from and where it is now." "Me?" he asked. "Why me?"

"Because I like you." He looked wary. "I'm not a likable person." "Who told you that?"

"It's the message I've been getting my whole life."

"Then you read messages wrong. Judd likes you.

The guys at work like you. I think you set yourself up not to be liked, then when it doesn't happen you 463 Harbam Deunshy turn and walk away and tell yourself that it happened anyway."

"Thank you, Dr. Freud."

Chelsea chuckled. "Cydra should be here." She missed her. They talked often on the phone, but it wasn't the same as sweating on the road together. That had been therapy, both the exercise and the talk. "Do you remember Cydra from the open house?"

"I remember her."

"She was intrigued with your looks."

"Most women are."

"If she came up for a week, would you take her out?"

"I don't take women out," Hunter said. "I do my thing and leave." My thing. Chelsea gave him a droll look.

Enticingly she said, "Cydra's a great girl." He gave her a disinterested look. "Okay, if you won't do that, will you help me find the key?" His hands fell to his hips. His suddenly cross expression was Oliver all the way. "What in the h.e.l.l can I do?"

"Ask around."

"Nolan's been asking."

"But you're on the inside," she argued. It was time she actively looked, but she couldn't *do it alone. "You know the Corner like Nolan doesn't. People might tell you things that they won't tell him, or me.

Someone has to know where the key is." "What does it go to?" he asked, retreating into his old defiance. He sounded as if he were testing her, and she supposed that was fair. She was asking him to put himsel(out. He had a right to know what for. 464 The Pamdons of Chelvea Kaw ' was told it goes to a music box."

"But you don't have that. So why do you want the "Because it's mine," she said with a defiance of Z",her own. "I have nothing at all of my birth parents Awt that. I want it back. And if I can't get it back, I t to know who gave it to the lawyer who then nt it to my mother."

"Who was the lawyer?"

"I don't know. On the Baltimore end, the adoption was handled by a friend of my parents, but he died and left no records behind. It was a home birth, so there were no hospital records. I checked with Neil on the chance that my mother might have had a '[email protected],problem during the pregnancy and gone to the hos- "'-pital for that, but the only visit like that at the, time was made by your mother.

I thought I might have a chance with the midwife."

"Did you talk with her?"

"Oh, yes." Chelsea remembered their meeting vividly. "She claimed that she had been too young to a.s.sist at any births then and that her mother would have been the one to know, but her mother is dead." Chelsea had sensed that the woman knew more. She had begged. She had offered money. Desperate, she had even threatened to go to court, though that would have been a waste of time and effort. If the woman wouldn't talk, she wouldn't talk. One thing Chelsea knew for sure. She wasn't having that woman deliver her baby. Home birthings were supposed to be warm, intimate, and emotionally rewarding. Given the choice between a more formal hospital delivery and a home birth attended by a midwife who couldn't see a legitimate human need 465 Barba= Deffngaw when it was right before her eyes, Chelsea would choose the hospital any day. "So since she wasn't any help, the key is the only thing I have to work with. Will you help me look?" He took his time answering, and then it was an ungracious, "I suppose."

"Supposing isn't good enough. You either you do or you don't." And she didn't care if she did sound like Kevin, she felt strongly about the cause. "You just want me to ask around?"

"I'm offering a reward. One thousand dollars for information leading to the return of the key." He made a sarcastic sound. "That the best you can do?"

"For starters. It may change. Well?" After another long moment, during which time he stared at her, he took the paper, refolded it, and slid it into the pocket of his jeans. "Thank you," she said with an exaggerated sigh of relief, and crossed that mattei off the list in her mind. "One more thing." He scowled. "What now?"

"Thanksgiving. I'm having dinner with Judd and Leo. Join us?" "I thought you were going to the Farrs'." After five months of living in the Notch, Chelsea was still occasionally surprised by the work of the local grapevine. "What do you know of that?"

"I know it got Donna in deep s.h.i.+t. Matthew was shooting his mouth off in the bar at the inn. So, they decided not to invite you?"

"Oh, they invited me," though she wished Donna had never asked Lucy. The price she'd had to pay wasn't fair. "But they didn't want Judd or Leo or Nolan." 466 The raswons of Cheism xane "You ought to go. Wear skintight clothes."

"Shame on you, Hunter."

"Still, if you're on the A list, you ought to go." Let me tellyou something," she said conversa- "I've been on the A list for most of my life, ,,:and I haven't been impressed. People on the A list are usually so busy either getting there or staying there that they don't have time for much else, which makes them very boring people. I'd opt for dinner with the B or C list any day. So. Will you join us for Thanksgiving dinner?" He returned his hands to his armpits. "I don't know."

"Yes or no."

"I may not be around."

"Where are you going?"

"I usually leave town for the holidays."

"Because they're depressing," she guessed. "Well, I'm giving you an chance to stay here without being depressed. Join us."

"I'll see." "I want a commitment.- "Why?" he asked, and his crossness returned. "Why are you on my back? And don't say you like me, because that's a crock, and don't say you want me, because we both know you want Judd. What are you after?" She wished she knew. From the first she'd been drawn to two men in the Notch, Hunter and Judd. She understood her attraction to Judd. It had a face and a name. Her attraction to Hunter was different.

She felt an affinity for him, didn't know why or where it was supposed to lead, only that the draw was there. She wanted to be his friend-but she'd told him that before. So, with a sigh, she said, "What 467 BWbam Deffnsky I want is to be able to communicate with someone who has experienced similar things to me."

"Similar things?" Hunter exclaimed.

"Baby, we're talking black and white, night and day, bad and good." She shook her head. "We were born in the same town in the same year, to women who conceived when they weren't supposed to. Neither of us has any blood relatives who acknowledge us. We both like cla.s.sical music, even though we're not musical ourselves, we both like motorcycles, and we both wear earrings. For all we know," she went on brashly, "Oliver was my father, too, only instead of hid me away for five years, my mother gave me up adoption. How does that sound? Think we might e half brother and sister?"

"No, I don't!" Hunter yelled. "Okay. No sweat. I can understand why you wouldn't want to be related to me. I'm sharptongued, filthy rich, and pregnant." Her voice gentied in a final plea. "But I really would like to spend the holiday with you. Think about it, please?" Hunter never did give her an answer. As though it were an issue of control, he refused to be pinned down. Nonetheless, shortly before four on Thanksgiving afternoon, he came with a swirl of failing snow through Judd's door. Nolan was there, as was Millie Malone, who had no family in town, and the ever-faithful Buck. As Thanksgivings went, it was totally different from. the formal feasts with rented tables and chairs, a full service staff, and dozens of guests. Chelsea didn't miss the pomp; she did miss Kevin 468 nw Paswons Of CJ"qww KOM Abby. For that reason she was grateful for the rk involved in preparing the meal. Judd was in kitchen as much as she was, which made the fun. Hunter was inoffensive, even entertaining n he could be cajoled into talking. Leo was innotly vacant, once he recovered from a small fit r when Emma was arriving, and Millie, though licitous to his needs, giggled her way through ore than her share of the wine Judd uncorked. nly Nolan seemed distracted. Chelsea didn't get him alone until the very end of e meal.

She was making a pot of coffee in the Itchen, setting up for dessert while the football 1, , went on in the living room. Nolan had volun- red to help, which suggested he wanted to talk, "You're worried about Donna?" she guessed. She knew about the recent intensification of their rela- and what had prompted it. Donna had spilled all when the issue of Thanksgiving had come up. Nolan leaned against the counter with a look of distress. "Matthew's a difficult man."

"She should be fine today," Chelsea reasoned, but she, too, was uneasy when she thought of what Donna's day would be like. She wished she were there, if only to act as protector. But her presence would have stirred Matthew up, which was why she had decided not to go. So now she rationalized, "The house will be packed. There's safety in numbers."

"Not with Matthew. He's doubly mean to her when they're with family, because then he's more frustrated than ever. His sister-in-law is -nearby, but he can't touch her."

"Does Donna know about Joanie?" Chelsea hadn't 469 Barbam Deunsky gotten any hint of it and wasn't callous enough to ask outright. Nolan sniffed. "She knows there's a woman, but she's too good-hearted to guess who." He studied his hands. "I keep telling her to divorce him. She doesn't need him. I'll take care of her. But she won't." Donna had told Chelsea that, too. "She's afraid for Jos.h.i.+e, and for the family name. It's commendable, I suppose."

"It's stupid."

"That, too," Chelsea mused, because Donna was suffering so. Nolan ran a hand through hair the color of the speckled gray granite at Moss Ridge. He wasn't handsome by a long shot, but Chelsea could see why Donna loved him. A kinder man would be hard to find. "What scares me," he said, "is that it'll take something really bad before she leaves him. He slaps her around. He throws things at her." The pain in his eyes was a vivid enough picture, yet he painted another. "He threw a fork at her-I mean, had to have hurled the thing just like a knife, because she had puncture wounds right where it hit, and they were a long time in healing. That's a.s.sault with a deadly weapon. She could take him to court on it. But she won't." His nostrils flared. "I'm a G.o.dd.a.m.ned officer of the law, and that b.a.s.t.a.r.d's going to break the law one more time and really hurt her, and there isn't anything I can do to prevent it."

"Talk to him, Nolan. Tell him what you know and what you can do."

"Know what he'll do then? He'll take it out on her. So maybe he won't hit her, but there's different 470 "M ALSWOOMS Of Chermw KMW to skin a cat. He could take every cent from cash drawer, scatter it all over the store, and e Donna scrounge around until every blessed nny is accounted for. How can I do that to her?" asked, then swore. "I haven't felt so hamstrung in whole life. I swear there're times I'd like to put y badge in the drawer and hit the street with my otgun."

"But you won't," Chelsea cautioned. "No purpose to it besides getting rid of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I'd be locked away from Donna. Besides, give e guy enough time and he'll do himself in. Know ..what he does three or four nights a week? He holes p at the bar at the inn until he's good and drunk, -then goes driving around until he thinks he's tired enough to sleep. The guy has self-destructive tendencies. No doubt about it."

"Can't you pick him up for drunk driving?"

"I have. - More'n once. And each time, I get a visit from Emery reminding me that my contract is up for review before the selectmen. I can keep my. job by letting Matthew drive wild on the roads in the middle of the night, or ticket him and be ousted. If I lose my job, I have to leave town, because law enforcement is the only thing I know, and if I leave town, I won't see Donna. d.a.m.ned if I do, d.a.m.ned if I don't. Life stinks sometimes." In a defeated way, he met her gaze. "Maybe I should quit anyway. I haven't been able to do anything to help you. Got no leads about who was calling you on the phone, no leads about who tried to run you off the road, no leads about who burned your barn or cut your phone line or broke into your house.

What in the h.e.l.l good am I?" Putting down the coffee scoop, Chelsea took a 471 marhma DCUAW" firm grasp of his arm. "You're a G.o.dsend. Without you, Donna wouldn't have a hope in the world of being happy. And as far as what's happened to me goes, I don't honestly think whoever's behind it all wants me hurt, just seared. There isn't any ongoing threat.

Nothing's happened since the key was stolen, so maybe that's what the person wanted all along." Nolan picked up on that. "Okay, and we ask ourselves why that is, and the only answer we come up with is that whoever stole the key knows exactly who you are, which means that if I could find the robber, I could probably find the answers to all your questions, which means that I'm letting you down." She gave his arm a small shake. I had the key in my possession for months without making any headway. Some people are great at covering tracks. My father did it where my birth was concerned. Whoever stole my key did it. Whoever cut the phone lines did it. When you have dozens of suspects-dozens of men who wear the same size boot, or know how to drive company trucks, or work with their hands and are perfectly capable of cutting telephone lines or setting a fire or gaining entry into a house without breaking windows or doors-it can be impossible to narrow things down. I don't hold you at fault. We're dealing with someone who's very clever." He shot her a facetious look. "That should narrow it down right there. The Notch doesn't have dozens of very clever people." She tsked. "Shame on you."

"Yeah. On many counts." The phone rang. Knowing Judd would take it in 472 RM Fa.s.simm or cheft" Kave other room, she sighed and rubbed Nolan Ss arm re taking up with the coffee again. "Cheer up. All gs eventually come clear.' i "In the meantime Donna is being abused and u're being terrorized."

"Not terrorized. I won't allow that. I have an m system in the house now"-Judd had insisted it-"and Buck is with me. Yes, I worry about nna, but there isn't much we can do except keep close touch. We can't force her to leave Matthew. e has to make that decision herself.

She'll reach a Aint where leaving him becomes the only thing she do."

Nolan didn't look convinced. "Battered women on't always leave. They stick around for what they Jeel are valid reasons."

"Right, but they don't have alternative places to ,,go. Donna does. If she doesn't feel she can go to her ,, she can go to you or to me. One of these -days, Matthew will make a misstep. Then everything "s done will come back to haunt him." Incredibly, Judd chose that moment to materiallz e at the kitchen door with word to that effect. T 0 '

"Problem here, Nolan. That was Monti Farr's oldest girl on the phone. Seems Monti caught Matthew touching Joanie, grabbed a knife, and stabbed him.

Matthew'll live, but Monti's run off. In this weather, that's bad.

They're organizing a search. They need you to lead it." Judd didn't live far from the town green, but the drive to the Farrs was nerve-racking nonetheless. The roads were treacherously slick, visibility next to nil.

Snow gathered on the winds.h.i.+eld of the Blazer 473 as quickly as the wipers could sweep it away, reducing the flas.h.i.+ng lights of Nolan's cruiser, directly ahead, to a psychedelic blur. Beyond the scope of those flashers and his own headlights was darkness. Given the weather and the uproar, Judd would have preferred that Chelsea stay at the house. A snowstorm was no place for a pregnant woman, any more so than a house where there'd been a stabbing. But she had insisted on coming, and with Millie right there to watch Leo, he had lost the one argument he might have stood a chance of winning. Judd hoped she was warm enough.

Although she was bundled in an absurdly large parka, still she had a way of getting chilled. She was forever wrapping herself in quilts while she worked-and he was forever wanting to warm her. Stupid. Impractical.

Agonizing. But true. "It's eerie," she said now. "Nolan and I were saying that Matthew would slip up. I didn't think it would happen so soon." Judd was annoyed at wanting Chelsea and therefore baldly cynical.

"This won't change much. Matthew won't be kept away from Joanie, any more than Monti will be charged with a.s.sault."

"But the whole town will know the truth now."

"The whole town already knows, except Donna. So now she'll know, too. And afterward, it's Farr business, not ours. All they want is our help finding Monti. He must be scared s.h.i.+tless about what he did, to run off in a storm like this." He dared take his eyes from the road for a split second, but it was long enough to see Chelsea's frustrated expression. "You want good things to come of this for Donna, and so do I, but don't get your hopes up. If the Notch was the type of town that took it upon itself 474 The Pa.s.sions of amigm right wrongs, Matthew would have been done in ago. Donna isn't the first woman he's abused. e's wanted Joanie since high school, and he's n it out on lots of others. Once he got married, concentrated on Donna, that's all. The Blazer slid sideways before its tires caught. e low, Buck," Judd said into the rearview mirror. 0 u may be the key player here." Monti had taken on foot, which meant that there would be a trail @Ao follow, unless the wind picked up and erased it or unless Monti ran in tire tracks on the street. In any case, Buck would help. He was no bloodhound, but he had keen instincts. All three houses at the base of the town green were ablaze with lights. Four-by-fours were parked every which way, left there by people who had set aside their own dinners to join in the search. One look at the scene inside the Farr house and Judd was grateful Chelsea had come after all. Donna was in a back corner of the living room, alone in the hubbub except for her mother, her sister Janet, and Jos.h.i.+e. Lucy was at the hospital with Matthew. Emery was issuing orders to Nolan. Joanie was weeping into a tissue, surrounded by a large collection of the Notch's upper crust. Once he saw Chelsea safely into Donna's circle, Judd joined Nolan, Emery, and the other men who had gathered to search. Oliver was among them, as were George and a.s.sorted relatives and friends. Nolan divided the men up and a.s.signed each group an area with the understanding that they would follow footsteps until the footsteps were lost, then radiate outward from that point. The deputy would be manning the police station, where news 475 could be received and relayed. Three blasts from the large horn atop the fire station recalled everyone to the green. Monti's tracks led them from the rear of the Farr house, through snow-snarled brush, through Calvin Ball's backyard, to the street, where, thanks to the work of a snowplow, they were lost. So the searchers set out like the spokes of a wheel. Armed with large flashlights and a portable phone unit tuned to the police station, Judd, Nolan, and three others followed Buck into a wooded area a half mile from the center of town. There was no trail, but the location made sense for a man on the run. There were abandoned shacks and children's playhouses, perfect spots in which to stop running and come to one's senses. Monti wasn't a stupid man-in a world of his own, perhaps, but not stupid and not suicidal, according to all who knew him. Neither was he particularly brave, or he would have confronted his wife years before, confronted his brother years before. Now he had panicked and run. But he wasn't the type to go far. They trudged on, calling his name, exploring every possible hideout. Snow continued to fall, so beautiful in the woods that in other circ.u.mstances Judd would have come by choice. Here, the night was silent, peaceful, pure.

Unfortunately the circ.u.mstances also made it cold, dark, and threatening. Hours pa.s.sed. After combing the woods with no luck, they crossed through the south end of town. Word had spread to the widely scattered homes there. Lights burned on porches. Those not involved in the search were at their doors to ask of its progress and offer hot food and drink. The snow tapered off at three in the morning, 476 The P"Wons or Cinifien K=W ng twelve inches on the ground. The deputy orted that Matthew had been st.i.tched up and fine, to which Nolan shook his head in disgust. ' search went on. ,-Judd felt the cold in his shoulder, more so even in his hands and feet, though it was getting ere fast. The temperature was falling, which was for the searchers but probably good in the long Frigid air would force Monti home sooner. Dawn had broken, turning the world a glistening ue, when the deputy's voice came with a wave of ic over Nolan's phone. "Judd withyou, boss?"

"He's here."

"Gotta talk with him."

"What is it, Donny?" Judd asked, but even before ' heard the deputy's words, his chill deepened. He barely had time to think about sixth senses before the message came through. "Millie Malone just called all hysterical. She was yellin' about the food and the wine, says they put her to sleep. She woke up a little while ago and found Leo gone." Chelsea was still at the Farrs', waiting with Donna for word on Monti, when she heard the news. She was on her way down the walk the instant she caught sight of Judd running down the street and climbed into the Blazer seconds behind Buck. Snow was heavily crusted on Judd's hat, jacket, gloves, and boots. His face was ashen, his lips blue. He tossed the hat and gloves onto the seat of the car as he slid in, turned the key in the ignition, then worked one set of cold fingers with the other. She handed him a cup of hot coffee. He curled his fin- 477 Deffasaw gers around it, took a healthy swallow, hand it back, and s.h.i.+fted into gear. "What do you know?" she asked. He wheeled around, skidded, straightened, headed out. "Not much. She doesn't know when he left. Could have been eight last night, ten, twelve, or two this morning. She was sleeping the whole time."

"How's he dressed?"

"Far as she knows, what he was wearing when we left."

"Any coaff "His baseball jacket." Chelsea cringed. The Red Sox jacket was fine for a cool summer night, but not much else. The implication of Leo's wearing the jacket now was as obvious as the fear on Judd's face. She pa.s.sed him the coffee again, took it back after he'd taken another drink. "Where does he usually go when he walks?"

"The woods." Judd swore. "Itd be his f.u.c.king luck to have been taken as one of the searchers-or to have missed them completely. Forget finding his footsteps. Never be able to tell them apart from all the others." He swore again. "We'll find him, Judd," she said. "Not you," his voice boomed. "You'll stay at the house. I have enough to worry about without that." She didn't argue. All she wanted to do was help, and she wouldn't do that by upsetting him. He was exhausted and cold, not the ideal conditions under which to be starting a second search in snowy woods. He needed sleep, then dry clothes and food. She didn't know whether he'd take the time for any. Besides, she wasn't in any shape to go into the 478 The raswons Of cipelmo KOW s. Far better, she knew, to stay at the house a ready pot of hot coffee, a skillet on the stove, a warm fire waiting for whoever checked in. Judd was out of the Blazer within seconds of fing up at the house. He took time to put on dry hes, but that was all. He immediately set off into woods-along with Nolan, Hunter, and most of Plum Granite roster, from the looks of the crowd had gathered. Chelsea couldn't help but feel it poetic justice that brought twice as many peoe out looking for Leo Streeter than had joined in hunt for Monti Farr. Those men had come because liked and respected Judd. It was gratifying. The morning hours crept by. Chelsea, who hadn't ept during the night, dozed off on the living room air.

Before noon she was joined by Donna, who fused to discuss Matthew.

Shortly thereafter "s deputy called to say that Monti had been und in a garage on the edge of town, sick at heart but otherwise fine.

Chelsea prayed Leo would fare @as well. As the afternoon progressed, women began'dropping by. Most were from the Corner, though there were some, like Ginny Biden and Sandra Morgan, from the center of town. All brought food, which was a good thing because searchers had begun straggling in, half-frozen, hungry, and pessimistic. The general fear was that Leo had become lost, lain down, and frozen to death, in which case it might be days, even weeks, before his body was found under the snow. As the hours pa.s.sed, Chelsea came to share that fear. The mercury in the porch thermometer fell lower. The beauty of the snow-sculpted landscape became a cruel hoax. 479 Bwbmu Definglw She stood endlessly at the window watching for Judd, though she knew that he wouldn't be back until either Leo was found or he dropped in his tracks himself. She wished she could do more, but there was nothing to do, nothing but wait and agonize over what might have been if she'd stayed at the house rather than going to the Farrs', or if Buck had stayed, or if Millie hadn't had so much to drink, or if there'd been time for coffee, or if Leo had been in a nursing home. She knew that Judd would be thinking all those things at some point and could only pray that Leo would be found alive. Dusk came early, as it did in late November. Chelsea lit every light in the house, thinking that if Leo had somehow survived the storm and eluded the searchers, he might be drawn by something familiar. She heated the large pot of stew that had been brought by one woman and the soup that had been brought by another, warmed the bread, made a fresh pot of coffee, kept the fire stoked. Donna had gone home to be with Jos.h.i.+e, who was understandably upset about the debacle of his own Thanksgiving. Others had gone home to tend to their families. Men came and went as the search continued. Then, shortly after eight that evening, the activity picked up. She opened the door to find men pouring from the woods. She thought she saw Judd, thought she saw Nolan, thought she saw a large bundle somewhere between them, but the movement was too fast and the night too dark. Headlights went on, cars started. She was wondering whom to grab for information when Judd materialized before her. He looked worse than he had that morning. "t know if he'll make it," he said in a shat- 480 The Paswons of cheften AMC voice, while Buck shook snow from his coat an into the house. "We're taking him to the tal." ."I'm coming," Chelsea said. She'd had enough of ing helplessly in the house. True, there would be re of that at the hospital, but at least she would with Judd. She had her coat on in seconds, left the house in Oe hands of those still warming up, and went with Hunter in the Blazer while Judd, Nolan, and two oth- ..,ers took Leo in the cruiser. The wait resumed at the hospital. Judd moved back and forth between the small examining room and the waiting room. He didn't say Much; his grim expression told Chelsea all she needed to know. The nurses had given her access to the hospital kitchen, but he refused to eat. He did drink coffee. She was sure that the caffeine alone was what kept him upright.

Somewhere around eleven, without intending to, she dozed off, curled in a ball, parka and all, on the waiting room chair. When she awoke, it washearly two, Hunter and several others were standing nearby, and Judd was hunkered before her. "He's gone," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "Let's go."

Before he could rise, she wrapped an arm around his neck and held him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Judd." He didn't say anything, just weakly touched her. sides. When she released him, he stood. He touched the zipper of her parka in a reminder that she should close it, held the door for her to pa.s.s through, and waited until she had settled into the Blazer before going around to the driver's side. He seemed dazed, which was perfectly normal, 481 fim2WM Deumay she told herself. He hadn't slept through nearly two days of physical exertion and emotional strain. Grief had as sure a hold on him as exhaustion. He drove to his house and walked her inside, and she wouldn't have gone anywhere else. She had no intention of leaving him alone until he had slept, eaten, and shown her that he was all right. She cared deeply.

Never in her life had she felt more strongly that she was in the right place, doing the right thing at the right time. Judd threw his coat on a chair, kicked off his boots, and, still without a word, went down the hall to the bathroom, where seconds later the shower went on. She turned back to the kitchen, sure that there would be a mess to clean up from the day, only to find that guardian angels parading as friends had done the work. The kitchen was spotless, as was the rest of the house. The fireplace was filled with glowing embers. She added a log to the grate.

It caught within minutes. She added a second, then a third, and it struck her as symbolic that the fire should blaze high on the night when the man who had so painstaking put each stone in its place had died.

This fireplace, the low stone wall surrounding the house, the scores of other stone walls he'd built, Judd himself-all were Leo, living on after him. Buck came from the back of the house and nuzzled her neck. He was subdued. She held him for a minute, then let him return to the old braided rug in Judd's room. The sound of the shower continued. She could imagine Judd standing beneath the spray in utter desolation, letting the heat of the water hit his skin without penetrating the coldness inside.

That was 482 The Pa.s.sions of Chemwa Ame it had been for her when Abby had died. The ing had gone on for weeks. She wanted to tell Judd that, wanted to tell him , would get better, but she remembered senting that. She had hurt with missing Abby, ad wanted to hurt with missing her, as if in punhment that she was still alive herself. Words ouldn't bring Abby back. Words wouldn't bring eo back. And Judd still had the agony of his burial ,,to see to. The shower went off. She made hot chocolate on . chance he would have it and returned to the living room. The fire was burning well, though its ' echoed hauntingly.

Without Leo, the house was empty. Even Chelsea, who was a relative new-"comer within its walls, felt the loss. She was on a chair by the fireplace when Judd reappeared, wearing sweats. His hair was damp, falling in spikes on his forehead as he braced a hand on the beautiful stone mantel and stared at the flames. Watching him, feeling his pain, loving , loving him-Chelsea was overwhelmed with the need to soothe. Leaving the chair, she slid her arms around him, under his sweats.h.i.+rt, front and back. She buried her face in the hollow beneath his ear and didn't say a word, just willed comfort from her heart to his. It was the easiest, the most natural, thing in the world for her to do. At first he just stood there. Then, as though the warmth of her arms had melted something -frozen, he let out a low, mournful groan. His arms went around her, and there was nothing weak about his hold this time. It was strong, determined, almost frantic. He moaned again, this time in a mutation of 483 Harbma Dehnsky her name, and held her closer. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here." His arms trembled. He made another pained sound and ran his hands up and down her body. Then he held her away so that he could touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and belly. "I need life," he said in an agonized voice while he filled his hands with those swollen parts that so symbolized life. Catching her chin, he covered her mouth with his. Chelsea hadn't been thinking of making love, but her arousal was as natural as holding him, grieving with him, loving him. Her heart was in the kiss she gave back, and as though he tasted it, his own deepened. He took her down to her knees on the rug before the fire, bringing her sweater over her head along the way, and while he worked at the b.u.t.tons of her blouse he kissed her again. There was hunger in it this time-and desperation and sorrow and discovery and desire-and there was intense reward in that for Chelsea. What happened then was something she had neither antic.i.p.ated nor would ever, in her entire life, forget.

He looked at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but only until he realized her belly was there. Peeling down the placket that covered it, he put both hands on her. That was when the baby moved. Hand, foot, arm, leg-there was no identifying it, but there was life inside her, which was what Judd needed to see and feel. Through the pain on his face, miraculously, came reverence. The baby s.h.i.+fted again. Judd made a small sound. He kept his hand there until it was quiet, then looked up. With dark, pa.s.sion-filled eyes and an uneven breath, he gathered her to him. 484 Mernswons of Cjml-WR JLWW onds later, as though he were trying physically absorb her, his hold deepened. He had suffered a and was trying to fill the gap inside, and she let elf be used that way because he was Judd and ause it felt good. Despite all he'd suffered that night, he never lost imself so in his pa.s.sion that he hurt her, which n't to say that he was gentle. He took her with a riving need, and took her again when he was done, but neither time did he batter her belly, and neither Aime did he leave her unfulfilled. He fell then into a fathomless sleep, and at first she thought she could watch him forever, there was so much she had missed, so much to see. But her own lids grew heavy, and, finding the warmth in his body that she usually needed layers of blankets and quilts to provide, she kissed his shoulder, whispered, "I love you," and gave herself up to what was left of the night. 485 twenty-two ONNA DIDN'T OFTEN SEEK OUT OLIVER. SHE didn't think of him as either a gentle man or an understanding father, but she wanted his help. Finding him alone was the easy part, since Margaret had meetings most every afternoon. All Donna had to do was to look out the window of the store until she saw the Plum Granite truck pull in at the large brick house at the foot of the green. Matthew was at the register. Two weeks after the stabbing, his wound, a six-inch-long slash into fleshy tissue at his side, had healed. The emotional repercussions not so, at least for Donna. While the rest of the family went about life as before, she was newly enlightened. "I'm going to see my father," she said to Matthew, and left before he could stop her. It wasn't that he was treating her differently-he was as abrasive and abusive as ever-just that she cared less. Something had died inside her that Thanksgiving Day. As far as she was concerned, her marriage was over. Oliver was in the library. It was his favorite room, 486 77M F"Wons of Cheig" AWW Sstately illusion, old and dark and smelling of vol- that hadn't been opened in years. Oliver

had a h-grade education. He rarely read anything other n work-related matter, but he had wanted a . So when his father finally died, and he and garet had moved into the house, the old parlor been transformed. He had built floor-to-ceiling helves and had bought a collection of books befitng a cultured man, a finer desk than he would ever ave used at work, finer chairs, a finer rug. In fact, he library was probably finer than any other room the house. He took great pleasure in it. He was lounging back on the chair, with his feet crossed on the desk and a gla.s.s of Jack Daniel's in his hand, when Donna appeared at the door. He Aidn't move other than to lower his eyebrows. "Why aren't you at work?"

he asked. She came right up to the desk and braced her fingers on its edge-boldly, since the part of her that had died had to do with Oliver, too. He didn't frighten her the way he once had. Nothing he said could possibly hurt her as much Matthew had. She was hardened, hence empowered. In coming to him, she was making two concessions. The first was in acknowledging that he was the head of the family by alerting him to her plans. The second was in speaking aloud, which, though he could understand sign, she knew he preferred. "I want to divorce Matthew," she said. "I'd like your support." With as little interest as he would have showed if she'd informed him she was making pork chops for dinner, he said, "You won't get it." He took a swallow of his drink. "You spoke vows. Plums don't go back on vows." 487 mwwb=v Definsky "Farrs do.

Matthew did." Oliver waved a bony hand. "Men wander. It ain't nothin'."

.It is to me. Did you know about Joanie and him?"

"Ain't nothin' to that, either. It's just talk." On reflex, her hand flew into action.

"Not just talk," she signed, then said loudly, "Monti saw. He used a knife!" Oliver cupped the gla.s.s in his lap. Pursing his lips, he studied the liquid inside. "Monti isn't divorcing Joan."

"That's Monti's choice.

He hasn't been through what I have." Oliver's eyes rose to hers in a challenge. "Just how do you know that? How do you know what he feels?

You don't know, missy. You don't know nothing."

"I know more than you think," she signed, and then kept on signing because that was her preference. "I know why I'm deaf, and it wasn't from being sick. I'm deaf because my mother boxed my ears, over and over again, because I heard something I wasn't supposed to hear." Oliver's feet left the desk.

There was a spark of something in his eyes that she couldn't quite identify, but it made her think his voice was more subdued. "You heard nothing." Her hands said, "I heard lots, and I was punished for it. I've been punished for it ever since." Oliver set his gla.s.s on the desk. "You heard nothing." She hadn't planned to say it all. Even now her head buzzed the same way it had buzzed after Margaret hit her, the same way it buzzed each time she remembered what she wasn't supposed to have heard. The buzzing had always been an alarm, warning her away 488 MW rawdons or Cheigm Kane certain thoughts, only now she resisted. She n't want to be warned away. Knowledge was a tool. "I know all about Katie Love," she signed, "and I ow about Hunter. He's your son. He's your flesh d blood. He's the boy-child your wife couldn't you. "Ba-loney,"